


Boys and a Bathroom

by loooooser



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: College AU, F/M, M/M, Stenbrough, be warned for dumb drunk gays, it isn't like super nsfw at this point but uhh if that changes ill update tags, kinda slow burn, side rddie and bnverly, stenbranlon, there's a party in this so like
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 06:00:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15113270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loooooser/pseuds/loooooser
Summary: College au. Modern au. Stan and Eddie room together and are friends with Mike. Ben rooms with Mike and is dating Beverly, who is in an apartment with Richie and Bill. They’re sophomores.follow me on tumblr at beepbeep-losers <3





	1. pregame

**Author's Note:**

> oh look I'm finally posting something on ao3!!! leave kudos and comment to encourage me to keep writing IT even when this fandom is in a lull fkdlajd

**Stan**

Stan’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He grabbed it and read the words on the screen.

Mike H: Yo, Stan! Haven’t seen you and Eddie in a bit. Ben and I are having a party tonight, you guys should come

Stan chewed on his lip. Parties were messy, which bothered him, but he liked to go out sometimes and he knew that neither he or Eddie had been out since the last time they’d gone with Mike – that had been months ago. Deciding he’d convince Eddie when he saw him, he answered Mike.

Me: Sure, we’ll be there. What time?

Mike H: 10pm, Stan the Man! See you there! Liquor is on me

Stan grinned at Mike’s host behavior. His gatherings were never BYOB. He thought it was rude to invite people over and not supply the “most important party favor.”

Putting his phone back in his pocket, Stan continued his walk to his favorite on-campus restaurant, where he was meeting Eddie for lunch. Eddie was already in their usual booth in the food court, and had his homemade sandwich and an apple in front of him. He didn’t quite trust the student employees to make his food, no matter how silly Stan told him that was. Stan sat his things down and went to get his food. When he finally slipped into the booth across from Eddie, the smaller boy was halfway through his sandwich.

“Thanks for waiting for me to eat, Eddie,” Stan quipped, unwrapping his veggie burger. Eddie stuck his tongue out at him.

“You’re too damn slow, and I was starving,” he said defensively.

Stan shrugged. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Stan spoke again.

“Guess what? We’ve got plans tonight.”

Eddie looked up at Stan, mouth full. “Whadday’mn?” he said, muffled, and then swallowed. “Plans with who?”

“Mike and his roommate are having a party. I said we’d be there.”

A grin slowly broke out on Eddie’s face. “Oh my god, Stan. Let’s get drunk.”

Stan blinked. “Bad day?” Sure, Eddie had been to parties before, but he was usually pretty controlled. Stan would get drunk, but Eddie often just drank a Smirnoff Ice or two and settled with a nice buzz that might delve into tipsiness if he was feeling particularly wild and took a shot. Only a handful of times had Eddie truly partied with Stan.

Eddie leaned over the booth, eyes glinting. “Stan, I just flunked a test over music in the goddamn 1700s – information that I never needed to fucking know in the first place. I’m getting drunk tonight.”

Ah, so the test hadn’t gone well. Stan nodded. “Fair.”

* * *

 

“We’re ubering to Mike’s, right?”

Stan looked up from rifling through his clothes to see Eddie leaning against the doorframe, grinning goofily. They had planned to leave in a half hour. “Uh. Yeah. Why?”

Eddie’s grin grew. “Because I just took two shots and you’re about to take one too.”

Stan smirked, unable to resist. Every once and a while, he and Eddie would both get in a party mood. It seemed like they were both feeling this party tonight. He got up and followed Eddie to the living room, grabbing a shot glass from the cabinet as he and Eddie shared a look that hinted at Party Eddie coming through.

Maybe tonight would be interesting.

* * *

 

**Bill**

“Richie! Did you take my fuh-flannel?”

Richie was pouring himself a shot of tequila. He didn’t look at Bill as he answered. “You own about a million fucking flannels, Big Bill. You’ll have to be a little more specific.”

“My f-favorite one, Rich,” Bill huffed, stressed. “The red and black one.”

Richie took the shot he’d poured himself quickly, letting out a hiss as the liquor stung his throat, and then looked at Bill. He widened his eyes and clasped his hands under his chin in an exaggerated portrayal of excitement.

“Oh-oh-oh! The one that looks old and worn but in a sexy way? That really makes your whole outfit and that you just feel so _cute_ in?”

Bill met Richie’s teenage girl voice with a flat stare.

“Haven’t seen it.”

Bill groaned.

Suddenly, Beverly, the third and final roommate in their apartment, opened the door to the bathroom, holding three lipsticks in her hand. The rest of her makeup was done, and she looked indecisive.

“Oh, good, you’re both in here,” she said happily, and walked toward them. “I need your help-“

“BEV,” Bill shouted, pointing at her accusingly. “You’re wearing my flannel!”

Bev was, in fact, wearing Bill’s missing flannel. She wore it loose over a black tank top and checkered pajama pants. Richie snorted with laughter as Bev looked down at herself and back up to Bill.

“Oh, yeah. I found it hanging in the laundry room and I got cold while I was putting on my makeup.”

Bill gaped at her. “Beeeeeeev. I’ve b-been looking for it for an hour.”

Bev laughed and shrugged it off. “Here ya go, Bill.”

“Th-thanks,” he sighed, and fled to his room to finish getting ready, leaving Richie to help Bev pick out her lipstick.

Bill was trying to look good tonight. He was feeling a little lonely, especially now that he was living with Beverly and saw her and her boyfriend, Ben, together. He hadn’t even really tried to be in a relationship, and his last one was in high school. Now, he’d decided that he wanted to find someone. His writing was dry and his art was uninspired. He needed a muse.

All he had to do was look nice and not get too trashed this time.

Bill put on the red and black flannel over a snug black t-shirt. He was wearing his favorite pair of denim jeans and he slid on his high top black and white converse. After fussing with his hair a bit and making sure he had some just-in-case money in his wallet, he was ready to go.

When he walked back into the small apartment’s living room, Ben and Bev were sitting on the couch together and Richie was pouring three shot glasses full with raspberry Smirnoff. When he heard Bill leave his room, he looked up and grinned evilly.

“Want a shot, Billy-boy?”

“Considering you’re already pouring th-three and Ben is our DD, and you’re using what you _know_ is my f-favorite, I guess I have to, don’t I?”

Richie closed the bottle and finger-gunned at Bill. “Bingo! Now get your sober ass over here and take this pregame shot with me, Denbrough.”

Bev got up from the couch and looped her arm through Bill’s, dragging him to the counter and bouncing excitedly.

Richie passed out the shots and raised his own high, signaling for the traditional pre-party shot toast.

“To getting Bill laid!”

“Guys, what the hell I d-d-don’t –“

“Ssshhhhhh,” Richie shushed, putting a finger over Bill’s lips with his free hand. “You’re wearing your flirty flannel. Don’t deny it.”

Bill glared as Bev giggled and reiterated Richie’s toast:

“To getting Bill laid!”

And they clinked their glasses and took their shots.

“Alright, let’s fucking go!” Richie exclaimed, grabbing his ratty denim jacket from the back of one of the chairs and heading toward the door, Beverly hot on his heels.

“You shu-sure we don’t need to b-bring drinks?” Bill asked.

Ben waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, Mike said it’s against his morals as a host to not provide liquor.”

Richie, holding open the door, clutched his heart dramatically. “Sounds like a good man to me.”

Finally, the four sophomores filed out of the apartment, hopping into Ben’s car and heading to their party.


	2. party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> College au. Modern au. Stan and Eddie room together and are friends with Mike. Ben rooms with Mike and is dating Beverly, who is in an apartment with Richie and Bill. They’re sophomores.
> 
> follow me on tumblr at beepbeep-losers <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting like four chapters today so uh this is my last note until chapter four or five prob. leave a kudos / comment!

**Stan**

Stanley Uris may have been just a little tipsy. He and Eddie had showed up [giggling](https://beepbeep-losers.tumblr.com/post/168459793861/boys-and-a-bathroom) at Mike’s door, Eddie waving goodbye to their Uber driver (who, he said, had been “so fucking cute”). Stan was certain he’d be dragging Eddie off of someone later that night.

Now, Stan and Eddie were dancing in Mike’s living room. There were at least fifteen people in the [apartment](https://beepbeep-losers.tumblr.com/post/168459793861/boys-and-a-bathroom) already, and Mike’s roommate hadn’t even arrived with his friends yet. When Mike popped up next to them with their drinks, Eddie was busy grinding into Stan and Stan was laughing at him.

“Here, guys,” Mike said, grabbing their attention. They cheered and took their drinks. “It’s punch – I made it myself.”

The drink was fruity and sweet and Stan hummed his appreciation at not being given beer or something equally gross. He left Eddie on the dance floor to follow Mike back into the kitchen.

“How much did you two drink before you came?” Mike asked.

Stan blushed a little. “A few shots a piece, and a strawberita each.”

“Eddie is already gone,” Mike commented, watching Eddie dancing happily to the upbeat music. “I watered down his punch a little.”

Stan tried to force the permanent grin being tipsy gave him from his face before asking, “Did you water mine down?”

Mike was shaking his head “no” when four people walked into the kitchen.

“Did I hear something about watering shit down?” one of them said loudly. He had thick-rimmed glasses and a mess of curly black hair. “Fuck is that about?”

“Ignore him,” another guy said. This one was blond with kind eyes and a pretty redheaded girl at his side. “That’s Richie.”

“The Trashmouth?” Mike asked knowingly. The other guy nodded and Richie gushed.

“Awe, Benny-boy, you talk about me!”

“You’re Ben!” Stan blurted. “Mike’s roommate.” Shit, he probably sounded tipsy as fuck. He blushed again.

“Yeah, I am,” Ben said, reaching out to shake Stan’s hand. “This is Bev, and that’s Bill.”

Ben motioned to the boy on his other side who had dark [brown hair](https://beepbeep-losers.tumblr.com/post/168459793861/boys-and-a-bathroom) that seemed to have an almost red tint, gorgeous blue eyes, and full lips. And fuck, was he tall. Stan averted his gaze, embarrassed at his own thoughts. Fiddling with the cup in his hands, he smiled at him.

“I’m Stanley.”

* * *

**Bill**

Bill took a long sip of his drink, standing beside Mike at the edge of the living room and not-so-discreetly taking peeks at Stan as he danced with Eddie and Richie. Richie kept reaching out to touch Eddie’s waist and Eddie would grin at him slyly. Bill was usually pretty smooth. Bill was kind of the unspoken leader of their group. He was a pretty confident person, he had a good head on his shoulders. He didn’t know what it was about Stanley Uris that made him unable to speak. He could usually talk to guys that he was interested in so easily!

Bill snorted a little when Stanley made a playful gagging face at Richie touching Eddie once again.

“He’d normally fuss at him for that,” Mike chuckled. “Eddie, I mean.”

Bill jumped, a little embarrassed at having been caught watching them. “Y-yeah?”

“He’s not one for being touched by strangers, unless he’s been drinking.”

“Are h-he and Stan not together?” Bill asked, trying to sound casual.

Mike gave him a little grin. “Oh, no, Stan is single.”

Before Bill could respond, Ben and Beverly came up, Beverly grabbing for Bill.

“Billlllll! Take shots with me! I can’t pull Richie away from that boy he found and I want a drinking buddy,” Bev pouted.

“F-fine,” Bill laughed, and reached out to touch Mike’s shoulder. “You w-wanna come?”

“Sure, I’ve been holding back to check on everybody else but fuck that,” Mike said with a chuckle, following Bill and Bev to the counter separating the kitchen and the living room.

Disposable shot glasses were scattered along the counter, amid bottles of liquor that varied from white rum to whiskey to vodka.

Bill grabbed three shot glasses a bottle of gold tequila that he knew was Beverly’s favorite. “This okay w-with you, Mike?”

“Fine with me. Good taste,” Mike commented.

Bill grinned. “Bev’s favorite.”

“Tequila is the most effective liquor,” Bev interjected. Bill was pretty sure that she was trying to sound witty, but since she had an alcohol-induced grin, she mostly came off as tipsy.

“Beverly Marsh how dare you orchestrate a group shot without me, you wretched bitch!”

Richie Tozier popped up behind Bev, throwing an arm around her shoulders. He was using what Bill thought was supposed to be his Englishman accent.

“How dare you abandon me for some cute piece of ass, Richie Tozier!”

“Hey! Is she talking about me?”

Eddie and Stanley were suddenly there, filling in the circle that had formed, and Eddie had asked the question to Stanley while tugging on the curly-headed man’s sleeve.

“She most certainly is, Eddie-kins!” Richie cooed, releasing Beverly to pinch Eddie’s cheek. Eddie promptly swatted his hand away, face red but lips pulled into a smile.

“As cute as your incessant flirting has been, can I please get a shot so that I become numb to it? Otherwise I may gag,” Stanley deadpanned. Bill laughed loudly despite himself and everyone turned to him. He felt a blush rise to his cheeks and he turned quickly to get more shot [glasses](https://beepbeep-losers.tumblr.com/post/168459793861/boys-and-a-bathroom).

“R-r-ruh-right, so h-how many sh-sh-shots is that n-now?”

“Quite the stutter there, Billy boy, calm down,” Richie joked, narrowing his eyes at his friend’s back. He and Bev traded a glance.

“Six shots,” Mike said helpfully, and Bill gave him a grateful smile.

Bill poured seven shots, keeping one on the counter. He passed a shot out to everyone but Ben, and they clinked in the middle before downing their shots. While Eddie said something about how he wished there was lime, Bill grabbed the spare shot and took it quickly. He met Ben’s curious gaze as his hand came down.

“You cool?”

Bill nodded. “Absolutely.” He flicked his eyes over to Stanley, and Ben followed his gaze. When their eyes met again, Ben gave him an understanding nod. “Just a little nervous.”

“He’s cute,” Ben said with a little smile. “Be careful.”

Bill nodded and grabbed a cup so that he could get punch. He could feel his nerves tense every time he looked at Stanley, and he really needed it. He was determined to talk to him at some point in the night.

* * *

**Stan**

Stanley was having too much fun to notice much else. It didn’t even bother him much that Richie, the loudmouth friend of Ben’s, was constantly flirting with Eddie. Okay, he looked at Bill across the room a  _little_. But that was neither here nor there. Stan was having a good time getting to know Ben and Beverly and Richie – getting to know being the usual drunken giggling and joking around. He had danced with Bev a few times, since Ben wasn’t too much of a dancer and Stanley assured him that he was very gay, so he shouldn’t worry. (Ben didn’t really need to be assured, as he didn’t mind Bev dancing with someone else if she wanted, but he thought it was funny that Stan was so concerned.)

The only one of Ben’s friends that he hadn’t talked to much was Bill, who had spent most of the evening chatting with Mike. Stan was trying to pretend like he wasn’t jealous at all about that. Bill was cute, and Stan had been hoping that maybe he would notice him. But Mike was handsome. Bill probably thought so too. It was understandable. Stanley was pretty small – kind of the opposite of Mike. Maybe Bill was into a Mike type more than a Stan type. Stan took a long drink of his punch thinking about it.

Several hours into the party, when everyone was objectively drunk (save the DDs present), Bill and Mike finally found their way to their friends, who were standing near the center of the room. Some of the other partygoers had started to leave, but only a few. Stan had gathered that they were some high school friends of Ben’s, and some classmates of both of theirs. Mike and Ben were also apparently in a club or two together.

Bill was very obviously drunk. Stan figured he was too. But Bill was such an excited drunk.

“Bev!” he exclaimed as he walked up to their group, Mike following closely behind. “Beverly!”

Bev spun and she grabbed Bill’s hands. “Bill! What’s up, dude?”

“I’ve had the b-b-best idea,” he said, slurring a little. His voice dropped to a whisper, and he spoke softly into Beverly’s ear. Stan’s interested piqued.

“Ohmygod, Bill! Amazing!” Bev squealed. “Let’s fuckin go! I have a needle in my purse.”

As Bev raced to her purse, Stan impulsively reached out to grab Bill’s arm. Bill spun toward him immediately, eyes bright. “H-hey. Stan.”

“What’re you and Beverly doing?” Stan asked, tilting his head to the side.

Beverly popped back up and she and Bill began to race off, but Bill tugged Stan along. “Come on, you’ll see!”

Stan laughed and followed as they raced into another room – Stan didn’t know what room it was – and closed the door behind them.

“Bev’s gonna give m-me a tattoo!” Bill exclaimed. He put his hands on Stan’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. Stan blushed. “Isn’t that fucking great?”

Stan was drunk, but he figured that Bev giving Bill a tattoo while they were both highly inebriated was not the best idea. He couldn’t find any words, though, while Bill was touching his shoulders, other than: “Oh.”

“C’mere, Bill,” Bev ushered, and Bill let go of Stan and started tugging his flannel off. Stan’s blush deepened and he held onto his cup more tightly, taking a sip.

The door swung open suddenly, and Ben flew into the room. “Bev! Bill! What the hell are you doing?”

“Honey!” Bev greeted happily, waving at him over Bill’s shoulder. Bill was throwing his flannel to the side, and grabbing to pull his shirt off. “I’m gonna give Bill a stick n’ poke!”

Ben’s eyes widened and he went over to Bev. “No no no no no, Bevvie. I love you. But not now, okay?”

Bev pouted and Ben started talking to her gently, carefully taking the sewing needle out of her hand. Bill, apparently distracted from his tattoo idea, came to Stan and grabbed his hand. “Hey, come h-here, Stan.”

Stan followed.

Before he knew it, Bill tugged him into the bathroom in the hallway and sat on the floor. Concerned, Stan put his cup on the counter and knelt in front of him. “Are you okay, Bill?”

Bill considered him.

“I want to kiss you.”

Stan was pretty sure he’d died. He felt his stomach in his toes. “You what?”

“Come here.”

And then Bill was reaching for him and Stan was letting him and oh fuck it, he may as well, I mean what was the harm, and Bill’s pretty blue eyes fluttered closed and –

Oh, his lips were soft. Stan felt a contented sigh escape him against Bill’s lips, and he slowly kissed back, leaning in closer to him. Bill’s hand cupped Stan’s jaw and Stan’s hand was on the wall beside Bill’s head and they kissed and Stan wasn’t sure how long it went on because everything was a little fuzzy around the edges, but when it stopped he was pretty sad it wasn’t still happening.

He and Bill looked at each other, lips a little puffy.

Stan realized that he had just drunkenly kissed a very attractive guy in the bathroom of his friend’s apartment, and a blush rose to his cheeks.

“You okay, Stan?” Bill asked gently. His hand dropped from Stan’s face and Stan missed the warmth.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Let’s g-go.”

Stan nodded and stood, then followed Bill out of the bathroom, feeling a little dazed. Bill walked casually toward the group they had left before, where Bev and Ben had returned. When Stan finally got there, Ben looked at him with concern.

“You and Bill were in the bathroom for a bit. You both okay? Not sick?”

Stan stared at Ben. He didn’t know if Bill wanted anyone to know. He didn’t know if it was just a stupid drunken thing. He didn’t know. So he swallowed, and nodded. “Mhm. We’re fine, Ben, thanks. Bill just needed a second.”

Ben smiled at him appreciatively. Stan slunk over to stand between Eddie and Bev, glancing at Bill as he went. Bill was looking at him already, and gave him a shy sort of smile.

Stan didn’t remember much after that.


	3. waking up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> College au. Modern au. Stan and Eddie room together and are friends with Mike. Ben rooms with Mike and is dating Beverly, who is in an apartment with Richie and Bill. They’re sophomores. 
> 
> follow me on tumblr at beepbeep-losers <3

**Stan**

The sunlight woke Stan up, which was extremely odd because he always kept his curtains closed. His stomach felt weird and his head was a little dizzy. He opened his eyes to see a room that was not his bedroom and memories flooded back to him. Dancing. Mike’s place. Ben. Beverly. Richie. Bill.

Stan’s eyes widened.

Bill.

Bill, who barely talked to him until they were both drunk. Bill, who tried to get Beverly to tattoo him with a sewing needle. Bill, who pulled him into a bathroom and kissed him.

Oh, God, he needed to talk to Eddie.

Wait, no. He definitely could not talk to Eddie about this. Not after all the shit he’d given Eddie through the years for his drunken shenanigans. Absolutely not. He groaned and sat up a little, trying to figure out exactly where he was and what had happened after things got blurry.

There was a door to a patio, which had no blinds covering it – the source of the sunlight. He was on a couch with a fluffy gray blanket over him and two pillows where he’d been laying his head. Eddie was curled up, asleep, on a small chair, one Stan is pretty sure he’d been sitting in Richie’s lap in last night at some point.

Ah. Mike’s living room.

Stan pulled out his phone and checked it. 8am. How did he manage to wake up horrifically early on a Saturday morning after heavily drinking the night before? _How_? He didn’t have any messages, just a few notifications from twitter and Instagram – followers that he assumed were from the party. He recognized Ben, Bev, Richie, and Bill, and he refused to acknowledge the flutter in his stomach when he saw Bill’s profile among them. Drunk Stan had already followed him back, thank God. Stan pulled up his text conversation with Mike.

Me: I’m alive, unfortunately.

After he sent the message, Stan laid back on the couch with a small grunt. He wanted water, but he didn’t want to poke around in Mike’s kitchen. Hopefully Mike would wake up soon. He was itching to tell someone about the whole Bill incident anyway, and Mike seemed like the best option. He was good at keeping secrets, and a really good listener.

Stan sat in silence, scrolling through his twitter feed and resisting the urge to cyberstalk Bill. Minutes passed, then an hour. Stan knew Eddie would be asleep until at least ten. Finally, at 9:12, the message notification popped up on his screen.

Mike: good morning to you, too, sunshine

Stan smirked a little. Mike had grown up on a farm, and apparently that made him a morning person.

Me: thanks for letting Eddie and I stay

Mike: didn’t have much choice

Mike: Ben and I had to pull Richie and Eddie away from each other so Ben could take the others home, and then you both passed out almost immediately

Mike: but you know you two are always welcome here

Me: thanks, Mike. Also, I remember them flirting, but I hope they didn’t do much else or Eddie will blush for seven days straight, as usual

Mike: all I saw was Eddie sitting on Richie’s lap

_Damn_ , Stan thought. _There goes me being the lesser of two evils._

Mike: do you feel okay? need water?

Me: yes please

Me: ……….and I need to talk to you, I think

Seconds later, Stan heard a door open and shut, and Mike emerged from the hallway, in gray sweatpants and a white tshirt. Stan nodded toward Eddie, who was asleep still, and moved to get off the couch slowly, his stomach protesting a little. Mike smiled at Eddie and walked into the kitchen, Stan not far behind him. Far enough away that they wouldn’t wake Eddie, Mike gave Stan a curious look as he grabbed a glass from the cabinet and gave it to Stan.

“What did you need to talk about, Stan?”

Stan flushed a little, avoiding looking at Mike as he put exactly seven ice cubes into the glass and then filled it with water from the filtered pitcher. “First of all, I want you to know that I hate that I’m saying this and that I don’t want anyone else to know. Maybe especially Eddie.”

Mike’s eyebrows raised. Stan was a safe, steady person, and he usually didn’t have anything going on that was exactly gossip-worthy. Leaning against Mike’s counter, Stan took a long drink from his glass. He couldn’t tell anymore whether the twisting in his stomach was from the night of drinking or from how nervous he was to admit to doing something so…spontaneous. That sounded exciting. No. _Reckless_. It had been reckless.

“Bill kissed me last night,” Stan admitted slowly, peeking sideways at Mike.

Mike laughed, then put a hand over his mouth when Stan glared. “Sorry, sorry. But really?” Mike dropped his hand and he was practically beaming.

“Why would I lie about someone dragging me into a godforsaken bathroom and kissing me?” Stan scoffed.

“You made out with Bill in my bathroom?” Mike asked, still grinning. Stan shoved his arm lightly.

“ _No_ , I did not _make out_ with him. He pulled me into the bathroom, and we were both drunk, and he said he wanted to kiss me – and – and he did,” Stan said weakly.

Mike patted Stan on the back happily, and Stan just looked at him. Mike held up his hands defensively. “What, do you not think he’s cute? Was it not good?”

Stan stammered. “I – it was fine but – he’s – yeah – but Mike that isn’t the point!” He ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “I – I don’t kiss people at parties, that isn’t something I’ve ever done. I give Eddie shit for it all the time and now…”

“Now you’ve gone and done the same thing?” Mike finished for him, giving him a half-sympathetic look. The other half was still decidedly pleased, which Stan didn’t know what to do with.

“What if I…liked him? Or thought that I could, when I met him?” Stan says slowly, turning a little redder. Mike raised an eyebrow again and his expression grew a little more serious.

“You just met him.”

“No, I know,” Stan sighed. “I just. I don’t know, he was cute, and then he kissed me, and it was probably just a drunk thing for him. It’s stupid.”

Mike put his hand on Stan’s shoulder. “Hey. It isn’t stupid. Maybe you’ll see him again, and you can talk to him.”

“Talk to him?” Stan asked, baffled. “Are you out of your mind?”

* * *

**Bill**

Bill woke up at one in the afternoon with a pounding headache. _Fucking tequila_ , he thought to himself, remembering how quickly the bottle had depleted between Richie, Bev, and himself. He was sweating as well and it didn’t take long at all to figure out why. Richie was curled against his side, leg thrown over his and his head on his shoulder, mouth hanging open and drooling onto Bill’s shirt. His glasses were still on his face, crooked and digging into Bill’s skin. One of Richie’s arms was thrown over Bill’s side lazily. Bill grunted and wriggled out of Richie’s grasp, making a face at the drool.

He ran his hands through his hair, groaning a little, and left the room to go to the bathroom. He splashed water onto his face before looking at himself in the mirror. Bright blue eyes stared back at him. His auburn hair was ruffled and sticking up in places, and he noticed that he’d slept fully clothed, the only thing missing being shoes. He brushed his teeth to chase away the taste of liquor and went to the kitchen, finding the biggest cup he could and fixing himself water. He chugged the water, finishing it all and lowering the glass to fix himself more.

“Well, good morning,” Ben’s voice said and Bill jumped and turned to face the living room, seeing Ben, who seemed to have just walked out of Beverly’s room. “Thirsty?”

Bill chuckled a little, raising a hand to rub the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. What t-time did we get home l-last night?” he asked. He’d realized that he doesn’t remember much after around one am.

An amused look on his face, Ben moved to sit on one of the stools by the counter. “Like four o’clock in the morning,”

Bill gaped at him. “Four in the m-morning? _Fuck_.”

Ben grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit that Bev insisted on keeping on the counter. Aesthetic and health were her reasons. Ben bit into his apple, chewing and swallowing before answering Bill again.

“Yep, four. How much do you remember?”

Setting his water down on the counter, Bill leaned against it and held his chin in his hands, thinking for a moment. “Uhmmm… I remember g-getting drunk. It gets b-blurry around the time –“ Bill broke off his sentence and blushed a little. Ben noticed and gave him a curious look, waiting for him to continue. Bill had never been one to hide things very well, so he looked at him almost shyly. “A-around the time I actually got the n-nerve to talk to Stanley.”

“Yeah, I kinda noticed you avoided him until you were pretty wasted,” Ben grinned. “Got a crush?”

Bill shrugged, not willing to label whatever it was he had felt toward Stan. “I don’t know. I don’t even remember m-most of what we talked a-about. I avoided him m-most of the night.”

The door to Bill’s room opened and Richie stumbled out. Bill gave Ben a panicked look that said  _please don’t say anything_ and Ben nodded understandingly. Richie stretched theatrically and plopped onto the stool next to Ben. His glasses were still a little crooked, of course, and his hair was sticking up wildly in every direction. He still had on his clothes from the night before – except his pants were missing, so he sat in brightly colored Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles boxers.

“Hello, dahlings,” Richie drawled in some high-society accent. “Aren’t we all dashing this morning? What a lovely evening we had, eh?” He grinned lazily at both of his friends, and Ben laughed a little and shook his head. Bill mostly ignored the dramatics.

“Oh y-yeah, especially you,” Bill teased. “You and Eddie hit it off, d-didn’t you?”

“Almost too much, we’re lucky they kept their clothes on,” Ben grumbled.

Richie put his hand over his chest, but Bill saw the happiness in his smile. “Woah woah woah, fellas, I was a perfect motherfucking gentleman! Kept my hands to myself, mostly,” he winked.

Bill downed the rest of his water and rifled through the fridge to find frozen waffles. “Guess we’ll be seeing m-m-more of those three then,” he said, “so Richie can pester the shit out of p-poor Eddie.” He barely noticed Richie’s reaction as he started thinking about how that definitely meant he’d see more of Stan. Hopefully he’d remember more of their flirting before then.

His thoughts distracted him for several minutes – through fixing the three of them waffles and through Richie waving his hand in front of his face to catch his attention and through the first few bites of his food. Right up until there was a knock at the door to their apartment. Bill shook his head a little and Richie snorted. He glanced over at them to see Ben giving him an amused look and Richie rolling his eyes and hopping off the stool.

“Our dear Billy returns to planet earth,” Richie announced, thumping Bill’s forehead as he passed by him to walk to the door. “I’ll get it, don’t worry. I just carry all the weight around here, don’t I?”

Bill, who felt he was very underappreciated for heating up waffles for the three of them, was just about to protest when Richie swung open the door to reveal Mike, who was waving humbly at them.

“Lookey here! Magic Mike!” Richie crowed, ushering Mike into the apartment.

Mike laughed and walked in. “Hey, guys, sorry for just showing up. I tried to call you, Ben, but I think your phone’s dead, man.” Ben checked his phone and frowned when he realized that was indeed true. Mike turned to Bill and held out something. “You left this.”

Bill blinked at him and looked from the red flannel in the man’s hand to the man’s face, confused. When had he even taken that off? He took it from Mike slowly, hands brushing against Mike’s warm palm. “Oh, shit. Whuh-where was it?”

“My bedroom,” Mike chuckled, and Richie choked on a bite of waffle and Ben had to clap him hard on the back. Bill blushed and was more confused than ever, which obviously showed on his face because Mike held up his hands. “Hey, I have no idea why it was there. Whoever took it off you wasn’t me.”

Bill laughed nervously at the voiced suggestion and looked to Ben for help.

“Oh, right, I think I know why,” Ben said quickly. “Bill and Beverly decided it was a great idea for Bev to give Bill a tattoo in your room. Taking off the flannel was as far as they’d gotten when I found them, thankfully.”

Bill’s eyes widened and he was about to marvel at his drunken stupidity when the words he was hearing made a memory hit him like a bolt of lightning.

Bev, her sewing needle, a stick n’ poke, Stanley, a bathroom, Stanley, a kiss, Stanley.

Oh.

Bill snapped back to attention as Mike patted his shoulder, giving him a strange, unreadable look. “That’s much better than what I’d been thinking,” he laughed. He started for the door. “Well, I’ll let you guys get back to your food. We’ll plan another get together soon, it was fun. Eddie and Stan loved you guys.”

Bill waved, at a loss, as he watched Mike glance at him again before he left.


	4. fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> College au. Modern au. Stan and Eddie room together and are friends with Mike. Ben rooms with Mike and is dating Beverly, who is in an apartment with Richie and Bill. They’re sophomores. 
> 
> follow me on tumblr at beepbeep-losers <3

**Bill**

Two weeks had passed and Bill hadn’t seen Stan or Mike again. Everyone else had gone back over to Mike and Ben’s the next weekend, but Bill had been sick and wasn’t able to go – although he’d insisted on it until Ben assured him that Eddie would freak out if he showed up looking like death, and that Stan wouldn’t find it all that attractive either.

Bill had thought about Stan an embarrassing amount. They’d talked at one party, and Bill could only remember a kiss and snippets of conversation between them, but he was absolutely crushing on him. Something about his guarded disposition and sly humor and the way he had had these random bursts of extroverted energy between all the more quiet, thoughtful stretches. He wanted to know what Stan liked, what his favorite classes were, who his friends were and why he got along with them, what music he listened to.

He was such a fucking sap. He blamed it on the writer in him.

So, two weeks passed of Bill getting excited when Stan posted on his social media, smiling when he retweeted a livestream of an eagle nest, sometimes with an excited comment attached. When he next saw Stanley Uris, his finger was hovering over the “like” button on one of those retweets.

“Excuse me?”

Bill worked at a coffee shop on campus, one of the smaller ones that was on the bottom floor of a classroom building. He normally worked afternoons four days a week, but one of his coworkers had needed to switch shifts and Bill had volunteered to take their Wednesday evening shift. Maybe that, and the romantic in him, helped him feel like it was fate when he heard Stan’s voice call for his attention.

His head snapped up and he tucked his phone hastily into his pocket. His polite customer service smile was quickly replaced with a genuine one when he saw Stan on the other side of the counter. He looked stressed, one hand gripping onto the strap of his backpack tightly as the other held three perfectly, creased bills on the counter. When Bill looked at him, Stan’s eyes widened perceptibly. Bill really hoped that wasn’t a bad thing, and started to get worried before Stan smiled shyly at him.

“Hey, Stan!” Bill greeted happily. “Whuh-what can I get y-you?” Damn stutter.

Stan licked his lips and seemed to have lost his train of thought for a split second before robotically answering, “Um, grande iced coffee with a little milk, please.”

Bill nodded and took the bills from Stan, then handed him his change and receipt. Stan hovered near the other side of the counter as Bill started fixing his drink. “How are y-you? I haven’t seen you since the p-party.” Bill kept glancing up at Stan as he worked. He really couldn’t help it.

“Just school, really. I didn’t know you worked here,” Stan said conversationally. Stan’s eyes seemed to be on Bill’s hands rather than his face and Bill wondered why.

“Oh, y-yeah,” Bill laughed softly. He put the lid on Stan’s drink and slid it across the counter toward him. Stan gave him a small smile as he put a straw in it. “I usually work aftern-n-noons, but this evening shift is the shit. It’s p-peaceful.” Bill leaned back against the counter behind him, still facing Stan and appreciating how the florescent light highlighted the different curls. “Why are y-you on campus so late?”

“I just got out of a three-hour seminar class,” Stan sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. Just saying the words made him look more tired. “I usually go straight to bed after, but I have a quiz tomorrow so I have to stay up and study a little.”

“Damn, th-that sucks. I’m sorry.”

Stan shrugged. “It’s alright. I have to go to the library, though. I know this place is about to close and Richie is over tonight at mine and Eddie’s. I love Eddie, but the two of them are loud.” Stan paled a little and looked like he wanted to hit his head on the counter. “Fuck! Not like that, they’re just – I mean –“

“I understand, Richie’s l-loud,” Bill laughed, and Stan relaxed. Bill could almost feel him warming up to him and it was exciting. He got the sense that a sober Stan was a pretty reserved Stan. Almost without full permission from his brain, Bill opened his mouth again and spoke. “I’m about to close up h-here, actually.”

“Oh, shit, you’re right, I’m so sorry, I should go,” Stan rambles, and he starts to move away.

“No, no, that’s not wh-what I m-meant!” Bill says quickly, leaning forward. “If y-you don’t want to go to the library, y-you can come over to my p-place and study. I have a paper due this w-week that I haven’t finished. Bev had to study for something for tomorrow t-t-too, I think, so it should be qwuh-quiet.”

Stan paused, half turned away from Bill and the counter, and his brow furrowed slightly as he considered Bill. Bill could feel his eyes on him, scrutinizing but thoughtful. He felt like Stan could see right through him, like he could see the words “I Think I Have A Giant Crush On You” printed in bold letters on his brain.

Eventually, Stan nodded slowly. “I guess that could work,” he said, a hint of wariness in his voice. “You’re sure you won’t mind? And that Beverly will be studying too?”

_God, he probably thinks I’m just trying to fuck him_ , Bill thought, almost grimacing. “I’m s-sure. Bev will be there, and we’ve all g-got to study so it’ll be fine. Promise.”

* * *

 

**Stan**

Bill Denbrough was a very convincing man. Or perhaps just a very handsome man.

Stan would have loathed to admit it, but Bill really could have asked him to study alone with him in his bedroom and as long as he had those hypnotizing eyes on him he doubted he would have said no, despite this being only the second occasion they’d ever spoken.

He was tempted to ask him if he was coming on to him by inviting him over, but that would be far too forward. He couldn’t imagine getting the words out successfully, and if Bill _wasn’t_ flirting with him then he would just be too embarrassed to ever even speak to him again.

Instead of asking any presumptuous questions, Stan tried to ignore Bill’s eyes and use his brain.

Bill seemed nice and all their friends were becoming friends. He had talked to Beverly several times now. He would text Eddie and say he was going to Bev’s and then if things got weird in the slightest, Eddie would give him an out.

Fuck. Eddie didn’t know about the kiss.

Nevermind.

Mike! Mike would work just as well. He’d text Mike when they arrived and then Mike, an amazing friend, would be just as willing to help him if things took a strange turn. Perfect.

Stan nodded at the expectant and hopeful Bill Denbrough, giving him a small smile. “Alright, then. Sounds good. I need to be home by three or so, though.”

“Totally,” Bill said, his face lighting up. He was like an excitable, friendly puppy. It was a lot of adorable on an already attractive man. “You can sit while I close up, it’s just now closing time and it’ll just take me a few minutes.”

Stan nodded and moved to sit lightly in one of the chairs at a small table, trying to watch Bill discreetly as he cleaned and pass it off as if he was looking at his phone. Schooling himself into keeping his eyes off Bill, he busied himself with taking out his laptop and typing out a list of all the topics he needed to study for his quiz. It was for his Ethics in Business course, and he knew the quiz would be pretty easy but he still felt like he needed to go over everything a few times. He’d probably make flash cards, take any practice quizzes he could find in the course material, the usual. He paid attention in class and kept up with his readings so he felt confident, but just in case –

“Stan?”

Bill’s voice pulled Stan from his thoughts and he looked up, blinking, at the tall man standing at the other side of his table.

“Are you ready to go?” Bill asked.

Stan nodded and shut his laptop. “Yes, I’m ready,” he said as he slipped it into his bag. He slung the bag back over his shoulder across his chest and stood, waiting for Bill to lead the way.

“I usually take the bus to and from campus,” Bill said as they started walking toward the exit. “So, uh –“

“I’ll drive us,” Stan offered quickly. He waved off Bill’s shy protest. He liked to be in charge of the vehicle he was in, so he really preferred this. He would have insisted on driving himself anyway.

Stanley led the two of them to his car in a parking lot just a few buildings down. It was a very clean silver Toyota Prius. He unlocked it and slid into the driver’s seat, turned on his favorite driving music and turned the volume where he wanted it so that it was low enough he and Bill could hear each other if they spoke but loud enough that they could pay attention to the music instead. Of course he also preferred that it stay at a number divisible by five, so that meant he turned it to 15.

Bill got into the passenger seat a little clumsily and he looked intensely cramped. He started searching for the bar to adjust the seat and Stan laughed a little.

“Oh, sorry, Eddie is usually the only person in here,” Stan apologized, watching Bill sigh in relief as he moved the seat back and made room for his long legs.

“Yeah, I figured he was the culprit,” Bill chuckled. He buckled and pushed his hair back as Stan pulled out of the parking spot.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just realized that I don’t know. Where do you live?” Stan asked. It was silly of him to have forgotten to ask such essential information before pulling out of the spot.

“Shit, right!” Bill exclaimed. “The Edge, that apartment complex on Avondale by the 7-11.”

Stan nodded and started driving in that direction. “Right, yeah, I know that one.”

The rest of their chatting on the drive was easy small talk. Bill was interesting to talk to and the conversation flowed well, to Stan’s delight. He laughed at Stan’s dry humor and seemed legitimately curious as to what kind of work he did in his classes, although most people quickly dismissed his accounting major as boring conversation. The entire drive, Stan had a nagging question at the back of his mind – the same question he’d been wondering the answer to since the party.

Did Bill remember their kiss? And, if he did, did it mean anything to him?

Stanley Uris considered himself, if anything, a realist. Bill was a 19 or 20 year old college boy who had kissed him in a bathroom at a party on the first night they’d met. It was very likely that it meant nothing to him, that he dragged someone off to kiss or more at many parties he went to. However, there was a part of Stan that had the romantic notion that maybe Bill Denbrough remembered the kiss and had been thinking about him just as much as Stan had been about him.

The realist in Stan really wished he’d stop thinking about it so much.

* * *

 

**Mike**

Mike Hanlon liked to regard himself as a thoughtful person. He tended to be introspective, and he preferred to hear other people’s opinions and feelings before voicing his own. He was careful to consider things from every angle so he could best understand what all was happening around him. He was observant that way.

He had known that he liked Stan soon after meeting him. At first as a friend, and then more. He hadn’t said anything because he wasn’t sure if Stan would feel the same way. Stan was, by Eddie’s description, too picky for his own damn good. Mike really wasn’t sure if he ever planned to act on his feelings, so he’d eventually decided to just be friends with Stan and see what happened. Stan didn’t date much and only sometimes even flirted. He was very focused on his classes and job. That was, until Bill Denbrough walked into the party.

Mike had seen it the second Stan looked at Bill, and he really didn’t blame him despite the pinch of jealousy he felt at first. Bill was handsome and, as Mike quickly discovered when he’d talked to Bill for much of the first part of the party, charming and funny to boot.

Mike was pansexual, but his preferences were typically skewed toward the more feminine area. By the end of his own party, however, he had somehow found himself with a crush on not only one, but two men. It just so happened that they both had eyes for each other.

Mike had been grappling with this dilemma quietly, and hadn’t spoken a word of it to anyone so far. He had been a good sport when Stan confided in him the next morning, genuinely happy that his friend kissed someone he liked but somehow wishing it had been him, or that he’d been involved. But he didn’t say anything or give himself away. He didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or get in the way of Stan and Bill being together if that’s what would make them happy. Mike, however, felt a very sad grip of loneliness when he thought of the two of them getting together. But how important was that if it cost them their happiness? Not important at all, he’d decided.

Mike was caught up in this train of thought as he sat next to Ben with his laptop in Beverly’s apartment, where he was meant to be working on his part of an assignment he and Bev had for their introduction to women and gender studies course. Ben was reading a book, legs tucked under him on the couch. Bev was sitting on the floor between his knees, the coffee table scooted up close to her so she could work from her laptop from where she sat.

All three looked up when the door opened and they heard voices. As if his thoughts had summoned some pestering spirit to taunt him, Bill and Stan walked into the apartment together. Mike swallowed and faltered for a split second before bouncing back to his usual happy demeanor, smiling at them brightly.

“Hey guys,” Bill greets happily, dropping his bag down beside the only other chair in the living room and then plopping down into it. Stan wandered over to the couch and sat his bag down next to it. He sat next to Mike, who thought that fate was a very cruel mistress for whatever she was up to.

“Hey there, boys,” Bev said, grinning at them. She turned around, leaning her forearm on Ben’s thigh to hold herself, and peered at Stan. “What’cha up to, Stanny?”

“I bumped into Bill on campus,” Stan explained, smiling at Bev. He had an even smile, but it lit up his face and made him look suddenly open and friendly rather than serious. Mike appreciated it. “I mentioned that Richie was over so I’d probably go to the library to study tonight and he invited me over here instead, said you had to study to. Looks like just about everyone is here,” he laughs.

“Well, you know Ben and I will actually burst into flame if we’re apart for too long,” Bev joked, patting Ben’s knee, and her boyfriend smiled fondly at her and gave her an appreciative chuckle. “And Mike and I are actually working on a presentation for women and gender studies right now.”

“Oh, cool,” Stan said, and his attention turned to Mike, who felt Bill’s eyes on him too. “What are you presenting about?”

“Marsha P. Johnson, the trans woman that played a major part in the Stonewall riots,” Mike answered. “We’re supposed to pick an inspiring woman and talk about her life, impact, all that.”

“Good choice,” Stan comments. He gets his laptop out and balances on his lap. Bill voices his agreement, saying, “Yeah, guys, that s-sounds really cool.”

Once Bill and Stan settle in, it gets quiet again. Mike and Bev lean to peek at each other’s work every now and then, and Mike steals looks at Stan and Bill when he can. Stan is almost intimidatingly focused on his work, and he clearly has a very practiced way of studying that Mike senses they can all tell they shouldn’t disrupt. Bill is easily distracted by his phone, but Mike sees that when he actually starts writing, he writes in long bursts during which his eyes never stray from his laptop’s screen and his fingers type so fast that Stan actually breaks from his studying to comment on it.

Mike gathers his things to leave a little after two in the morning, and Stan quickly says that he should probably get home as well. Mike and Bill both give him a curious look, but Stan is already packing up. When he stands, so does Bill.

“Thanks for letting me come over,” Stan says to Bill, smiling at him and looking unsure of himself.

Bill gives him a slightly crooked smile and says, “Yeah, no problem. Any t-time.”

When Stan takes a step toward the door after a pause and turns to say goodbye, Mike smiles at Bill. “Nice to see you,” he says, a hope somewhere in the back of his mind that he sounds charming. When Stan is done saying goodbye to everyone, Mike walks out behind him, giving a friendly, “See you guys!” over his shoulder.

As soon as Mike shuts the door behind him, Stan turns, both hands holding the strap of his pack anxiously, and looks up at him with his intelligent hazel eyes. Mike raises his eyebrows at him in question.

“Do you think Bill likes me?” Stan demands in a hushed voice. He reminds Mike of a kid asking someone if they think the tooth fairy is real. Mike would prefer that question over this one any day, but he can only say what is the most honest answer he can think of.

“Who wouldn’t like you, Stan?”


End file.
